


an underlying softness

by sourwolfclub



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Familiars, Fluff, Getting Together, Just Add Kittens, M/M, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 12:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21054080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourwolfclub/pseuds/sourwolfclub
Summary: It starts almost two months after Stiles has turned eighteen.





	an underlying softness

**Author's Note:**

> canon? i dunno a canon.
> 
> warnings for mentions of blood and implied violence? also a reference to kate but this isn't very angsty, promise!
> 
> happy spoopy season btw~

It starts almost two months after Stiles has turned eighteen. 

“I need you to look something up for me.”

Stiles sputters and shoots up into a sitting position on the floor, one hand pressed to his chest to still his quickening heartbeat. A tiny little fox lies on his thigh, looking past Stiles’ shoulder. Derek stands in front of his open window, the tiniest kitten in existence perched on his shoulder that he claims to detest.

(Stiles knows he doesn't mean it. No one could ever actually hate their familiar. It would kill them.)

“What the fuck, dude?” Stiles manages to say once he has regained his breath.

Derek raises a brow at him, but the usual glare Stiles would expect doesn't greet him along with it.

It hasn't greeted him in a long time actually.

Stiles sighs and pushes the fox off his leg so he can stand. He makes a show of walking over to his laptop and collapsing in his desk chair, but he quickly slips into his usual ready to roll demeanor when it comes to research. Stiles doesn’t need the full picture to half-ass things, not after all the terrifying things the pack has been through in the past two years. So he turns on his laptop and urges it to finish starting up quicker.

After Stiles has a new window open, he looks over his shoulder to stare at where Derek is still standing. “What do you need to know, oh mighty Alpha of mine?”

Derek doesn’t smile, but his lips twitch upwards anyway as he approaches Stiles’ desk. “Typical cat behavior.”

Stiles blinks. “Excuse me?”

Silence is Derek’s only response though, so Stiles sighs again and enters it into the search bar feeling ridiculous.

Google gives him about a hundred thousand results. Derek leans over his chair and rests his chin on Stiles’ shoulder as he scrolls down the first page of results. Stiles finds a credible veterinarian website describing the characteristics of cats and clicks on it immediately.

The fox jumps onto his desk and settles in the tiny space between Stiles’ arms and his laptop. Stiles ignores him and the way he immediately starts chewing on his sleeve, not wanting to give him any attention lest he starts thinking big of himself again. 

“Derek, why are we looking up cat behavior at eleven on a Friday night?” Stiles asks, shifting in his seat as Derek digs his chin even harder into his shoulder, silently urging him to stay still. “Like, is there some kind of giant cat that’s stalking the woods that we have to kill? Because I don’t think I’d be down for cat murder, man.”

“I think she’s sick.”

Stiles frowns. He knows exactly who Derek means without having to be told explicitly. “A familiar can't get sick. You  _ know _ that, Derek.”

Derek huffs, a puff of warm air gliding over Stiles’ collarbones. “I want to be sure she isn't. Just keep scrolling and focus on symptoms for illnesses.”

“Fine, fine,” Stiles relents, propping his chin up by using his hand as he continues to scroll through the website. “I’m still saying though. She isn't sick. Not unless you're dying or something and I seriously doubt _that_.”

“Why?” 

Derek’s question is simple and to the point, but so is Stiles’ answer.

“You’ve been through too much shit to die on me now, man. I already promised myself that you’re gonna live a long and happy life from here on out.”

Derek tilts his head curiously. “Why? You don’t owe me anything.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “It’s not about what I owe you. It’s about what I  _ want _ for you, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek replies, but his voice is softer now, still laced with curiosity.

A contemplative silence settles over them, lasting long enough to make Stiles sweat. Derek only sighs in response against his neck, something Stiles thinks was on purpose which is only reinforced when Derek rubs his cheek against Stiles’ own.

Stiles is more than used to the pack scenting him, but not from their alpha. Never from their alpha.

He takes it in stride anyway, rubbing his own cheek gently back and shivering as Derek’s beard scritches against his skin. He doesn't want to make this into a Big Deal since it's obvious that Derek is trying very hard to keep everything nonchalant right now. Stiles knows that tomorrow the rest of the wolves will jeer at him with suggestive implications dripping from their mouths about what he and their alpha are getting up to, but he finds that he doesn’t really care too much about that.

Stiles is also pretty sure that Derek is smiling, but he doesn’t look back to check and instead starts reading the common symptoms of a sick feline aloud.

* * *

Stiles is at the grocery store trying to figure out how much meat would be enough for the pack meeting later that day when someone takes hold of his hand.

He turns, a curse on the tip of his tongue ready for the entitled asshole who thinks they can just invade his space like that. But it dies in his throat once he catches sight of familiar hazel eyes looking nervously over his shoulder. The gray kitten has her claws dug into Derek’s jacket, tail puffed up as she hisses at something behind her human.

Stiles raises a silent brow in question at what brought on the random hand-holding, but Derek only scowls and leans further into Stiles’ space. Following the kitten’s hissing leads to a young, blonde woman Stiles has seen around town but never interacted with before. She’s pretty and her face is flushed a bright red in what he can only assume is embarrassment. Stiles can’t help but notice how her gaze keeps flickering from the selection of cheeses in front of her and Derek’s broad back beside him. So Stiles sighs and decides to play along, for now, tugging Derek along with him away from the woman.

“Is that for later?” Derek asks, pointing at the heap of meat Stiles has in his cart.

The fox perks up at the sound of Derek’s voice, but stays put on the seat children usually occupy when accompanying their parents while grocery shopping. Stiles rolls his eyes at him, glad that Derek isn’t paying a lot of attention to him.

“Nope. This is for the other pack I’m in,” Stiles quips, grinning until he catches sight of the murderous glint in Derek’s eyes and backtracking as quickly as he can. “Of course, it is, dude.”

The murderous glint lessens, but not enough to leave Stiles comfortable again. “Right.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, ignoring the pounding of his heart. “Is there anything specific that you want for the meeting? Also, you’re paying for all of this now.”

The kitten on Derek’s shoulder has now calmed down and is nuzzling into Derek’s neck as she purrs. His alpha ignores her for the most part though, only sparing her a brief scratch under her chin. Stiles feels the inexplicable urge to pet her head but viciously keeps his hands to himself.

Touching someone else's familiar is uncommon, something married couples sometimes never allow even after years of being together, and something Stiles doesn’t want to get tangled into right now. 

“I always pay,” Derek says with a shrug, looking down to his shoulder where the kitten has curled up into a ball to sleep.

(Stiles wishes he had a camera in his hand at the moment, only so that the soft smile gracing Derek’s features as he looks down at her could be saved forever and hung up in a museum somewhere.)

“Yes because every time I go shopping for pack meetings, you somehow know and appear out of the blue.”

Derek ignores that jab at his creepy stalker skills as Stiles expected him to and instead returns to his earlier question. “I want lemonade and a meatball sub.”

Stiles sighs and tugs Derek down the aisle with him, not letting go of his hand even as the blonde woman disappears from sight. Derek doesn’t seem to mind and it isn’t until they’re leaving in separate cars that Stiles’ realizes they only let go once they reached the cash register.

He tries his best not to dwell too much on that though.

* * *

Stiles freezes when something soft brushes against his leg.

He looks down to find a tiny gray kitten swishing its tail back and forth, touching his leg in the process. He looks back up to find the kitten’s human frowning at her.

“She’s been acting weird. Keeps trying to touch people and stuff,” Derek says, eyes trained on his familiar.

Stiles shrugs and shifts carefully away from the kitten, putting enough space between them so her tail doesn’t keep making contact with him. “She’s not sick though. You’re not dying so it can’t be that.”

Derek glowers at him. “But she  _ is _ acting differently, you can’t deny that.”

“And I’m not,” Stiles placates him. “I just don’t think she’s sick. It might just be something changing with you, like how you perceive others. You are an alpha after all and wolves are tactile creatures. She might just be channeling that from you.”

“But why now?”

“Beats me,” Stiles sighs. “I don’t honestly know but I’ll look into it. Don’t worry.”

Derek lets his gaze fall back on his familiar, his voice far away when he speaks, “You do that. Tell me anything you find, but if she gets any worse, I’m taking her to Deaton and I’m blaming you if something happens to her.”

“Trust me, I would never let something harm her,” Stiles says and is surprised by the sincerity of his statement.

He flushes when Derek’s eyes flicker back up to stare at him, unimpressed. Stiles avoids his gaze by looking down at the tiny fox by his feet, looking up at them and snuffling curiously around the couch cushion the kitten is sleeping on. He knows his heartbeat has just increased and that he probably smells like mortification, but all of that goes on the back burner when the kitten stands up, pads over to him and lays down beside him until her tail can brush against his leg again.

Derek raises a brow at him as if to say,  _ See what I mean? _ And yeah. Stiles can definitely see what he means.

Stiles sighs and stands up. “I’ll go start digging right now. Just keep her close to you until I can figure something out.”

Derek nods but Stiles knows he doesn’t have to say it for him to know he will always keep her nearby.

* * *

Stiles’ research turns up absolutely nothing.

Nothing. Zilch. Nada. It frustrates him more than he lets on but Derek doesn’t glare at him  _ too _ darkly when he reports his findings.

Derek takes her to Deaton and is tight-lipped about what the good doctor said. Stiles gripes about it for a while until Derek snaps at him, something he hasn’t done in years.

He apologizes as soon as he sees the look on Stiles’ face, but Stiles drops the subject anyway.

* * *

They have just made it back to the den after a nasty encounter with a witch and her golems when Derek reaches inside his leather jacket and pulls the tiny gray kitten out.

Stiles stares at him in confusion until he realizes that there is a gash on her side. It’s slowly leaking blood but doesn’t appear to be deep. She’s curled into a ball and her breaths are shallow and that alone is enough to drive Stiles out of his mind with worry.

“What happened?” He asks, rushing forward to examine the kitten.

Derek shakes his head, holding her out to him. Stiles barely hesitates to take her in the palm of his hand, not thinking about the implications of Derek willingly letting him touch his familiar.

“She got pretty roughed up in a fight with that witch’s lion. I don’t know what to do, she’s never fought another familiar before. Do you think she’ll heal?” Derek says, a hint of panic in his voice.

Stiles holds her up to his face and grimaces when the fox on his shoulder jumps and lands down beside the kitten. He presses his nose into the kitten’s side, sniffs curiously then curls around her protectively. 

“She’ll be okay. She’s resting,” Stiles murmurs, chancing a glance up to gauge Derek’s reaction.

Derek doesn’t look too hung up about their familiars’ newfound familiarity with one another, eyes only for the gray kitten. “Are you sure?”

Stiles nods. “Positive. I learned a lot about familiars when I tried figuring out why she was so open to touch recently. She’s already healing. Familiars heal just as quickly as their humans do.”

The kitten sneezes at that moment and Stiles feels his heart flip flop at the tiny show of adorableness in his hand. He looks back towards Derek and finds him smiling slightly at the sight. Stiles holds his hand out to him, offering him his familiar back but Derek shakes his head.

“We should rest,” Derek says. “Your dad’s working a night shift, so I’d rather you stay here instead of going home where you’ll be by yourself. The others are still cleaning up and should be back soon.”

“Sleeping sounds amazing right now,” Stiles agrees, not finding the effort to question how Derek knows his father’s work schedule right now. “Any free guest rooms or should I claim the couch as my territory now before the others get back?”

Derek stares at him then, bottom lip caught between his teeth in contemplation. Stiles does his best to ignore the sharp jab of arousal he can feel stirring in his groin at the sight. He blushes when Derek lets go of his lip in surprise, obviously having picked up on the scent. 

“You can take my bed,” Derek eventually murmurs, his intense hazel eyes laser-focused on Stiles.

Stiles raises a brow. “And where will you sleep?”

“My bed.”

“Oh,” Stiles says.

He blinks three times before Derek’s words register in his brain. “_Oh_. You mean like us in the bed  _ together, _ together, huh?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, grinning all the while. “I am more than okay with that. Come on, dear alpha of mine.”

Derek smiles again before he leans in and kisses Stiles softly on the mouth, moving slowly enough for Stiles to pull away if he wanted to. But he doesn’t, so he stays where he is and moves his lips in tandem with Derek’s. Stiles blinks stupidly as he pulls away, still holding their familiars in his hand. “Buh.”

Whatever other nonsense Stiles was going to say is cut off when Derek kisses him again. And again. And again.

A lot of kissing is done on that night.

* * *

At the next pack meeting, Stiles watches a fox and a kitten roll around on the carpet in front of the rest of the pack.

It takes a moment, but soon enough, everyone’s eyes are on the two familiars before their gazes shift towards their respective humans.

“So, you and Derek, huh?” Erica asks, her and her terrier’s brows wiggling ridiculously.

Stiles can’t help but laugh, leaning back into Derek’s side on the couch. “Me and Derek.”

Scott groans as he fishes a ten-dollar bill out of his pocket and hands it to Boyd. “Come on man, we’re supposed to be the best of bros. If you had waited one more week then I would have been twenty dollars richer!”

Stiles wants to be offended when more money is passed around between all those present but then he looks down at where the kitten and fox have curled up together on the floor and decides to ignore how awful their friends are.

Derek is a solid weight at his side and Stiles gets comfortable in his embrace, relishing in the fact that he can do that whenever he wants now.

* * *

(“So, hey. Did Deaton ever say why she started acting differently?” Stiles asks a few months later.

Derek presses a warm hand to the middle of his back before he kisses his jaw. “Because my mate had accepted me.”

Stiles frowns and opens his mouth to say something but Derek shuts him up with a kiss and Stiles kisses him right back.)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! hmu on [tumblr](https://sourwolfclub.tumblr.com) if you want more sterek (:


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